Uncertainty
by PeacockBlue
Summary: The first few months of Juliet's life. Mainly Nurse (Angelica) centric


UncertaintyAngelica looked down at the small bundle that had been put into her arms. The child's mother, barely more than a girl herself, was looking down at her imperiously.

The highly prestigious Capulet family had sent out messengers to the lower classes seeking a woman whose child had recently died. Apparently it was 'beneath' the Lady of the house to nurse her own daughter, so a lower-class woman was required. She would feed and raise the girl at her own home. No move away from familiar streets, friends or family would be needed. Once the girl, Juliet, was five, she would re-join her blood family and from there, the nurse's future would be decided.

There had been few candidates for the post, despite the high pay and status that whichever woman was chosen would gain. In recent years, the feud between the two main families that always simmered beneath the surface had been slowly but surely moving towards the hotter end of its cycle. Accepting the position of nurse to the Capulets could, in the future, mark her and her husband out as targets to the Montagues. They had a good, steady income; they did not _need_ to take this girl in, but she _wanted_ to. It had been a few weeks since her Susan had died of a fever, and she herself had almost succumbed. Now, she could throw herself into this little one. She would have at least five years with her, and possibly more, if the Capulet family opened its home to her.

She returned home to her husband. The Capulets would provide an allowance for the clothing of their daughter as well as a generous wage for herself. She would be expected to teach the girl proper respect for her parents and she would have to be kept separate from the 'lower' children, so as to avoid her picking up 'common' habits and mannerisms. Any further instructions would be passed on by a messenger of the household.

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She walked home cradling the delicate girl, keeping the long white tail of her clothing as far away from the dust and dirt as she could. As the pair travelled further and further from the rich area of the city, Juliet woke from the light sleep she had been enjoying before her nurse had been given her and, from practice, Angelica could see the warning signs of a loud crying fit. This was understandable; only a few days old, taken away from her mother and into a busy, smelly, noisy street with an unknown woman.

Her home was not far. Odds were, the girl was hungry and, once there, she could feed her. If she hurried, she could be out of this oppressive heat before the baby began to cry. With the motivation of a fussy baby pushing her on, Angelica reached her home more quickly than she would have expected. She pushed the door open and sat down, alone in the house. Her husband would be back later that afternoon, but for now she focused on keeping the baby happy and fed.

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The sun was dipping closer to the horizon and dinner was almost ready. It was simple, nothing like what would be served at her new charge's family's table that evening, but it was enough. Robert was playing with Juliet and one of the soft dolls she had made for Susan before the fever had taken her. Her own daughter had not so much as seen the doll, and neither of them was ready to let go. She could not replace Susan, but she would find her own place in their little household.

She took the food off the kitchen fire and set it out on their wooden plates before calling to her husband. They took their places at the table, the baby having been placed in a lovingly carved cot, and said Grace.

Both of them knew that there were many in Verona who could not afford to eat as well as they themselves did, despite meat, fresh or salted, being a rare treat. What they had, however, was enough for them. Everyone had their place, and they were content with their lot in life. She may not be able to afford lace and silk, and he may have to work hard in his carpentry to bring home their daily bread, but they had not married for gain in status or money. The ties that held them together were stronger than if they had been born into higher families and the question of marriage taken out of their hands. Little Juliet would not have that luxury. Once she was of the age, she would be expected to follow her parents' orders and she would be sold off to whoever would be the most beneficial to the Capulet family as a wife. There was no guarantee that he would care for her, or that she would be happy with her husband. If the current Lady Capulet was any indication, the girl would grow up to be beautiful. She had a cold, icy beauty that was further chilled by her upbringing and the values that had been ruthlessly pounded into her from an early age, but none of her coldness detracted from her looks.

It was as she finished that the first whimper passed the girl's lips. It had been like this with Susan, too. The baby would interrupt quiet moments and she wagered that neither she nor her husband would have a full night's sleep for the next few months, judging by how their own daughter had been.

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The months passed. Juliet grew, faster than Susan had; the weakness that had eventually taken their girl was not in this child. She was bright and interested in her immediate surroundings and, after a few weeks, became clingy. Her nurse noticed that, when she tried to put Juliet down, the girl would begin to shout and generally showed her displeasure. She was already trying to give orders!

Although this trait could be seen in most healthy babies, Angelica could not help but link it to her birthright as an upper-class lady. Would she be pushed away once she had returned her charge to the Capulets? Would Juliet see her as merely another servant, as many of her social rank did? Lady Capulet, she had heard (gossip was bartered for and sold just as much as bread) had rejected her own nurse entirely, viewing her as an embarrassment or an annoyance to be ignored. Would she try to persuade her daughter to do the same?

Angelica lifted the wailing baby from her cot and gently bounced her up and down. All she could do was hope and pray that this child, who she had grown to love so quickly, would be more accepting than her mother. Different, not one to accept her fate without a question.

In thirteen years' time, she would look back on this moment, on this hope. _Have care what you wish for_, so the saying went. _For it may come true_.


End file.
